


City of Dreams

by Iknowyouknowleeknow



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Lee Minho | Lee Know is Whipped, Lee Minho | Lee Know is a Sweetheart, M/M, New York City, bin is rich and sung is his doorman and minho is bins bff, nyc is not what sung dreamed of, until minho comes into his life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-06-02 12:38:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19441642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iknowyouknowleeknow/pseuds/Iknowyouknowleeknow
Summary: “No, Bin, I’m here...I’m not lost, shut up...Yes, I’m sure this is the right place.”Jisung glanced up at the Korean and saw a boy around his age walking towards him, phone pressed to his ear and a stuffed duffel bag slung over one shoulder. He caught Jisung’s gaze and rolled his eyes, hanging up on whoever he was talking to and shoving the phone into the back pocket of his dark jeans. The expression on his face told Jisung that the eye roll wasn’t directed towards him, but was the boy’s way of including Jisung in whatever ridiculousness he felt was happening on the phone, and it made Jisung smile. He hadn’t felt included in anything since he’d landed in America.On top of being ignored at work, Jisung wasn’t having much luck in the friend department at school. His roommate tolerated him at best and he had a few people in his classes who he greeted every day, but his dreams of coffee and shows and strolling down the sidewalk with someone by his side had proved to be just that.Dreams.





	City of Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> this was inspired by Conor Maynard's new [music video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=anNBvqzzbBk/)  
> and it ended up being longer than anticipated  
> also, I don't mention it in the story, so as far as how bin and minho know each other...bin's family also has a place in korea that they spend part of the year in and he and minho have been friends since they were kids

When Jisung got into his dream school in New York City, he was beyond ecstatic. His mind went to coffee dates with new friends, Broadway shows on the weekends, bustling sidewalks and bright lights and the education he’d always wanted.

He wasn’t thinking about how expensive it was going to be.

He had a scholarship, and it was a lot, but it wasn’t enough. And that was how, a week into his new life, Jisung found himself taking a part time job as a doorman at a ridiculously fancy apartment building in the Upper East Side.

It wasn’t difficult, as far as jobs go. He mostly stood around, opening the door whenever someone came, carried in luggage when needed and offered directions to lost tourists. 

What was difficult was the way the residents of the building acted as if he was nothing more than an extension of the door. He wasn’t a person, just a thing to make their lives a little easier, and that stung. He’d been instructed to learn their more wealthy residents by name, and he had, greeting them every time they glided through the doors. The only one who had ever given him so much as a glance was the son of the Seo’s, the family who resided in the penthouse apartment. 

He’d smiled at Jisung a few times and nodded at his greetings, but Jisung wouldn’t go so far as to call him friendly. Most of the time he rushed by without a word, expensive headphones over his ears and a harried expression on his face. 

Jisung tried not to let it bother him.

-

“No, Bin, I’m here...I’m not lost, shut up...Yes, I’m sure this is the right place.”

Jisung glanced up at the Korean and saw a boy around his age walking towards him, phone pressed to his ear and a stuffed duffel bag slung over one shoulder. He caught Jisung’s gaze and rolled his eyes, hanging up on whoever he was talking to and shoving the phone into the back pocket of his dark jeans. The expression on his face told Jisung that the eye roll wasn’t directed towards him, but was the boy’s way of including Jisung in whatever ridiculousness he felt was happening on the phone, and it made Jisung smile. He hadn’t felt included in anything since he’d landed in America. 

On top of being ignored at work, Jisung wasn’t having much luck in the friend department at school. His roommate tolerated him at best and he had a few people in his classes who he greeted every day, but his dreams of coffee and shows and strolling down the sidewalk with someone by his side had proved to be just that.

Dreams.

“Hey.”

Jisung was snapped out of his thoughts by the boy’s greeting and he flushed slightly, cursing himself for getting lost in his head and failing to do his job.

“My apologies,” he bowed slightly, then reached for the golden handle of the door, the Korean coming out instinctively.

“Oh, thank goodness,” the boy looked relieved. “My English isn’t that great yet and I have a question.”

Jisung’s hand dropped and he nodded, “Go ahead.”

“Do you know if Changbin lives here?”

“Changbin?” Jisung furrowed his forehead in concentration. It was a Korean name and there were a few Korean families in the building, but given the boy’s age, it would make most sense if he was looking for the Seo’s son. Jisung had never gotten his first name. “Seo?”

“Yes!” The boy clapped, clearly delighted, “Ha, I knew this was the right place! I told him I’d find it but he didn’t believe me.”

“He, um, he lives in the penthouse,” Jisung reached for the door again. “I think you need a special key to get up there. He’ll probably have to come down and meet you.”

“Thank you,” the boy peered closely at Jisung and he felt his cheeks flush under his inquisitive gaze, resisting the urge to look away. A pout pulled down the boy’s pretty lips, “You don’t have a name tag.”

“Oh,” Jisung blinked in surprise. No one else had cared to know his name. “Jisung.”

“Oh Jisung?”

Jisung’s blush deepened. It was a reasonable assumption, “Han Jisung, sorry.”

“Han Jisung,” the boy repeated it slowly, as if he was savoring the taste of the name on his tongue, then beamed and offered Jisung his hand. Jisung took it with the hand that wasn’t holding the door opened, shaking it briefly. “I’m Lee Minho.”

As much as Jisung was enjoying not being invisible for once, he felt like he needed to tell Minho that what he was doing was strange. He clearly wasn’t from around here.

“You don’t have to talk to me. No one else does.”

“Well, that’s not very nice of them,” Minho hitched his luggage higher up on his shoulder and Jisung internally cursed himself again. He should have offered to take that. “I’ll smack Changbin for being rude when I get up there.”

“He’s not so bad,” Jisung quickly assured him. “He smiles at me.”

Minho’s phone rang before he could respond and he fished it out of his pocket, rolling his eyes again when he saw who was calling. “Changbin,” he mouthed, then answered the call.

“No, I’m not lost. I’m talking to Jisung...Your doorman, gosh, you’re useless...I’ll be up in a minute...I’m not flirting with him, I literally just asked him his name, which you clearly never took the time to do...Whatever. Goodbye.”

Minho hung up and glanced at Jisung, “Well, now he knows your name.”

Jisung wasn’t quite sure what to say to that, so he just nodded and waited for Minho to step inside. His arm was getting a bit sore from holding the door open.

“Oh, whoops,” Minho giggled, finally noticing. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Jisung inclined his head towards him as the boy crossed the threshold. “Have a nice day.”

“You too!”

Jisung shut the door softly behind Minho and returned to his post, shoulders drooping now that he was alone again. It had been nice to be the focus of someone’s attention, even just for a few minutes. 

-

Jisung stifled a yawn, blinking tiredly as he tried to focus. It was Saturday and he’d accepted an extra morning shift at the apartment building, but had been kept up for half the night by the party in the room next to his. A party that he hadn’t been invited to.

The door behind him opened and Jisung snapped to attention, ready to wish whoever was exiting a good morning.

The words died on his tongue as he yawned and he clasped a horrified hand over his mouth, only to be met by a tinkling giggle.

“Morning, Jisungie.”

It was Minho and Changbin, with no sign of the older Seos in sight, and Jisung relaxed a bit. He didn’t think either of them would tattle on him to his boss.

“Good morning, Minho. Changbin,” Jisung answered in English, bowing his head at the two boys. Changbin nodded back at him and stepped towards the sidewalk, but Minho lingered, gaze locked on the dark circles underneath Jisung’s eyes.

“How do you take your coffee?”

“Huh?”

“Coffee,” Minho offered him a crooked smile, the left side of his mouth pulling upwards. “Bin and I are going to grab some breakfast and bring it back. You’re clearly exhausted, so I’m going to get you a coffee. How do you like it?”

Jisung blinked back the tears that sprung to his eyes, cursing himself for being so overwhelmed by such a simple gesture, “Um, two creams and four sugars, please.”

Minho nodded, backing towards where Changbin was waiting for him on the sidewalk, “Don’t fall asleep while we’re gone.”

“I won’t,” Jisung promised softly as the two boys disappeared.

-

It was during Jisung’s normal Sunday afternoon shift when Minho appeared alone, his duffel bag back over his shoulder. 

Jisung did his best to ignore the ache in his heart, having grown used to the way Minho greeted him happily every time he entered and exited the building.

“Going home so soon?” Jisung teased, hoping his sadness wasn’t too obvious in his voice. He was going to miss Minho’s smile.

“I have a long journey ahead of me,” Minho nodded solemnly, “50 whole blocks.”

“What?” Jisung’s eyes snapped open wide. “You live in the city?”

Minho giggled, “Over by Koreatown, yeah. I’ll be around a lot, don’t worry.”

“I-I wasn’t…” Jisung sputtered, stopping when Minho poked at his flushed cheek. His voice dropped to an embarrassed whisper, “I wasn’t worried.”

“Cute,” Minho smiled, then suddenly reached out and clasped Jisung’s hand. “Don’t let them get you down, okay?”

Jisung nodded numbly and Minho pulled away, pressing something into Jisung’s palm as he did so. Jisung’s curled his fingers around the folded paper and watched as Minho gave him a little wave before heading off down the sidewalk. Jisung kept his eyes on him until the other boy was out of view, then dropped his attention to the paper Minho had slipped him. 

He unfolded it slowly, his eyes dancing over the message scrawled there.

_You have a beautiful smile. Don’t let anyone take it away._

Underneath it was a phone number.

-

“Hey, um, Jisung?”

It was Wednesday and, since Minho had left on Sunday, no one had addressed the doorman by name. He did his best to hide his surprise as he reached for the door, “Hello, Changbin.”

Changbin waved him off, then stuck his hand in his bag and withdrew a package of gummy bears, “This is for you.”

Jisung accepted the treat, looking from the candy to Changbin in confusion. Changbin shrugged a shoulder and rocked back on his heels, “From Minho.”

“Oh,” a small smile flirted across Jisung’s lips, but he tamped it down quickly.

“He also wanted me to pinch your cheeks and tell you that you’re too cute to die, but I’ll save us both the humiliation,” Changbin chuckled awkwardly, then opened the door himself and slipped inside.

Jisung ripped open the corner of the bag before sticking the snack in his pocket, then glanced around to make sure none of the residents were coming down the sidewalk. Once he’d deemed it clear of familiar faces, he risked taking out his phone. 

Jisung pulled up his chat with Minho and saw the last text he sent the older boy, earlier that afternoon when he was walking to the building. 

_Is it possible to die of boredom? Because I think this job is going to kill me. It was nice knowing you._

He quickly typed out a thank you message and sent it to Minho, followed by a smiley face. He shoved his phone back in his pocket and snuck out a gummy bear, popping it in his mouth and rolling it around with his tongue. The sugar instantly made him feel better, but it was the fact that Minho had been thinking about him that really perked Jisung up.

-

“Jisung!” 

Jisung tugged one headphone out of his ear and glanced around, looking for the voice that had called out to him. All he got were a few dirty looks and a rough shoulder smacked into his, so he slipped the earpiece back in and started to walk again.

He had made it two blocks when a hand closed around his wrist and he whipped around, Minho’s familiar face greeting him. 

“Sorry,” Minho’s breathing was a little heavy and his cheeks were beautifully flushed, the autumn sun catching a bead of sweat as it rolled down his cheek. Jisung realized the older boy must have sprinted to catch up with him. “I was on the other side of the street when I called out to you. I didn’t think. I should have known someone would bump into you. Is your shoulder okay?”

A warmth spread through Jisung at Minho’s genuine concern and it took all his self-control not to throw himself into the other boy’s arms.

Instead he paused his music and shoved his headphones into his pocket, then fished around in his bag until he came up with a water bottle. He pressed it into Minho’s hand, “I’m fine.”

Minho cracked the bottle and took a sip, smiling as he rescrewed the cap and passed it back to Jisung, “Thank you.”

Jisung nodded and put the bottle away. He started walking again and Minho fell into step next to him, their swinging hands brushing every so often.

“Are you headed to work?”

It was Saturday afternoon. Jisung shook his head, “I was just covering a shift last week. I don’t normally work on Saturdays.”

“Oh, cool. Are you meeting up with anyone? Or going anywhere time sensitive?”

Jisung shook his head again. He had no one to meet, but he didn’t want to admit that to Minho.

“Want to get lunch?”

Jisung stopped in his tracks and Minho quickly pulled him to the side, out of the way of the glaring businessman who almost ran him down. Jisung’s cheeks flushed, both from the heat of the man's stare and the heat of Minho’s palm on his arm.

“I’d love to,” he finally responded, his voice soft and a little choked up. He’d been eating every meal alone.

“Yay!” Minho was positively glowing as he took Jisung’s arm in his, tugging him down the sidewalk. He rambled as they walked, about his week, things in the city he found interesting, his friendship with Changbin. He also asked Jisung a million questions, about school and his life before the city and what he loved most about New York. 

And when they finally arrived at Minho’s favorite Korean restaurant, Jisung was so filled to the brim with happiness he felt like he might burst.

Which was why, when Minho grabbed the door and held it open for him, Jisung turned to the older boy with bright eyes and a voice rich with sincerity, “You’re what I like most about New York.”

-

“What time do you get off?” Minho leaned against the building, his umbrella tilted to cover both him and Jisung. There was an awning above the door, so the umbrella wasn’t necessary, but the gesture still made Jisung’s heart beat a little bit faster.

He pushed up the dark sleeve of his uniform and eyed his watch, “I have about forty minutes left.”

“Perfect,” Minho gestured towards the door. “Bin and I are having movie night. He said it was cool to invite you. Just call when you’re done and we’ll come down and get you.”

Jisung swallowed hard, “In his apartment?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t...Wouldn’t it be weird for me to go in there? I’m staff.”

“Changbin doesn’t care,” Minho assured him. 

“But his parents…” Jisung trailed off, biting down on his bottom lip.

“His parents are in Korea.” 

Jisung suddenly remembered the Seos and their luggage, getting into a towncar the evening before, “Oh.”

“Just call when you’re ready to come up, okay?” Minho pushed off the wall and handed Jisung his umbrella, then adjusted the cuff of Jisung’s jacket where it was still scrunched up over his watch. The older boy’s fingers brushed against his hand as he tugged the sleeve back down into place and Jisung’s stomach twisted when Minho stepped back and gave him a smile. “Stay dry.”

Jisung nodded, the umbrella held tightly in his hand as he watched his friend disappear inside.

He didn’t need it, but Jisung kept it open anyway, as a reminder that someone cared about him.

-

Jisung smoothed his hands over his shirt one last time, glancing nervously at his reflection in the staff bathroom mirror. He always brought a change of clothes with him, so he wouldn’t have to walk to and from work in his uniform, and it was those clothes that he was in now. He was suddenly regretting today’s lazy choice of joggers, oversized white graphic t-shirt and gray zip up hoodie. 

Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair, watching as his bangs flopped down over his forehead. He tugged up the hood of his sweatshirt, then pushed it down. He ruffled his hair again, replacing the hood. A second later it was back down. Nothing looked right.

He knew Minho was going to start wondering what happened to him, since he’d told the other boy exactly when he got off, so he slung his bag over his shoulder and slipped out of the bathroom, tugging his phone out of his pocket as he did. He stepped into the lobby, about to call, and was surprised to see Minho and Changbin already waiting.

Changbin noticed him first, nudging Minho with his elbow. Minho turned and his whole face lit up when he saw Jisung, delight obvious in his smile. Jisung’s answering smile was just as bright and he quickly crossed towards him, presenting Minho with the umbrella he’d loaned him.

Jisung saw Changbin roll his eyes, though his small smile made the gesture seem more fond than annoyed, and heard him mutter something that sounded suspiciously like _love struck idiots_ when Minho insisted that Jisung keep the umbrella.

A delivery man entered the lobby and Changbin handed him a few crumpled bills, accepting two pizza boxes in exchange. Without a word, he headed towards the elevator.

Minho linked his arm with Jisung’s and tugged him after Changbin, “I’m really sorry that we ordered without you. We wanted to time it so the food was here when you got done. I was going to come down and ask you what toppings you liked but Bin told me to stop bothering you so much while you’re working. So we just got one cheese and one pepperoni. I hope that’s okay.”

“That’s fine.”

The three of them entered the elevator and Changbin inserted his key, twisting it and pressing the button for the top floor.

Minho’s eyes were on Jisung and he reached out with the arm that wasn’t linked, his fingers brushing softly through Jisung’s bangs, “I’ve never seen you without a hat before. You have gorgeous hair.”

“Can you please save your flirting until I’m not trapped in a tiny box with you two?”

Minho withdrew his hand from Jisung’s hair and used it to smack Changbin, but he didn’t unlink their arms. 

The door chimed open and they stepped out into the most gorgeous apartment Jisung had ever seen, his eyes widening when they landed on the massive chandelier that hung in the entrance way. If it wasn’t for Minho tugging him along, Jisung would have been frozen in that spot all night, too overwhelmed to take another step.

“Bathroom is down the hall on the left, kitchen is on the right,” Jisung belatedly realized that Changbin was talking to him, “and we’re going to be hanging out here.” They entered a room that sported the largest tv Jisung had ever seen in person. “If you want a drink or snacks or anything, just take it, you don’t have to ask.”

Changbin set the pizza boxes on the coffee table and flopped down on the end of the large leather sectional couch that dominated most of the room. He flipped open the top box of pizza and snagged a slice, gesturing for the other two to do the same. They did and they all ate in silence until the boxes were empty. 

It was then, hunger settled, that they began to discuss movie choices.

They opted for Iron Man and Jisung moved from where he’d been sitting on the floor to the couch, perching there awkwardly as Minho followed him. The couch was huge, big enough for the three of them to comfortably lie down and not touch, but Minho settled himself in right next to Jisung, tugging the younger boy into his side with an arm around his waist.

“Is it okay if we cuddle?” Minho’s voice was slightly nervous, something Jisung hadn’t heard on him before. He nodded and Minho relaxed, his free hand falling to rest on Jisung’s knee. The movie started and soon Minho’s fingers began to move, rubbing lightly at the curve of Jisung’s leg. It felt nice and he dropped his head to Minho’s shoulder, breathing out a content sigh.

The soft smile that Minho sent him in response had Jisung’s heart skipping a beat.

-

“I don’t want to wake him up.”

Minho’s voice was barely a whisper, but still recognizable even in Jisung’s sleepy state, and he felt fingers moving themselves steadily through his hair. His head was resting on something warm and he shuffled closer, pressing his face into Minho’s stomach. 

“Just switch out your lap for a pillow. He won’t notice.”

“It’s okay,” Minho’s fingers continued to sooth through Jisung’s hair. “I don’t mind.”

“You’re so whipped,” Changbin’s voice was light and teasing, not demanding an answer, but Jisung could feel the hum of agreement in Minho’s stomach anyway.

“I know.”

-

School had gotten a lot better. Jisung had made a few friends that lived on the floor above him and he no longer had to eat meals alone.

Work was also better. Ever since movie night, Changbin actually talked to Jisung when he passed, instead of just smiling at him. And a few of the younger children in the building had grown used to Jisung’s presence and happily greeted him now, though they endearingly called him Mr. Doorman instead of his name.

His life in New York was slowly turning into the one he’d dreamed about.

“You’ve been really happy lately.”

Jisung and Minho were huddle on a bench in Central Park, the early November wind cutting through them and forcing them to sit closer. Minho had a hot chocolate clutched in his grasp and Jisung had a coffee and every few sips they’d switch, cold fingers brushing as they traded drinks.

“I’m really glad,” Minho fiddled with the end of his scarf, “I’m really glad you’re happy. And I’m glad you found someone who makes you this happy,” Minho glanced up at Jisung from under his lashes, offering the younger boy a small smile tinged with melancholy. “They’re a keeper, whoever they are.”

“Oh, I’m not…” Jisung swallowed, the clear heartbreak in Minho’s eyes rendering him speechless. But even though it was obvious the other boy was hurting, Jisung knew his words were genuine. “ You make me happy.”

“You make me happy too,” Minho’s eyes dropped to his boots and he scuffled one foot along the pavement before standing, offering his free hand to Jisung. “Come on, let’s walk and talk. Tell me about them.”

Jisung stood and took his hand, letting their fingers slot together as they headed down the path, “I just made some new friends at school, that’s all. I’m not dating anyone.”

Minho’s hand squeezed his, “I’m glad you’re making friends, Sungie.”

“Me too.” Jisung paused, then blurted, “You’re my favorite though. You’ll always be my favorite.”

“You’re my favorite too,” Minho giggled, his shoulder bumping comfortably against Jisung’s. “Don’t tell Binnie.”

-

“He’s never going to do it. You have to ask him.”

Jisung furrowed his brows, confused as to what Changbin was talking about, “Huh?”

“Minho.”

“I still don’t…”

Changbin blew out an exasperated breath, cloudy in the cold air, “Please just ask him on a date.”

“I’m not...we’re not…” Jisung flushed, even though this wasn’t exactly news to him. He was well aware that Minho liked him. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“He’s too important,” it sounded stupid, even to Jisung’s own ears, but it was the truth. He couldn’t risk ruining what they had.

“He’s not going to leave you, Jisung. Even if dating doesn’t work out. You’re just as important to him as he is to you. He won’t want to lose you either.” Changbin reached out and clasped Jisung’s shoulder, squeezing once before he let his hand drop, “It’ll be okay. I promise.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do,” Changbin was backing towards the street, his eyes still locked with Jisung’s. “I know you and I know Minho and I know how much you care about each other.” 

-

“What were your dreams, the ones that made you move to New York?”

Minho laughed and swung their linked hands together, almost smacking a tourist in the face, “Someone’s forgetful.”

Jisung flushed, letting his lips tug down into a pout. He knew about Minho’s dreams, of course he did, but he needed the older boy to say it, “Just answer the question.”

“I want to be a dancer on Broadway.”

They turned down Fifth Ave, heading towards the hub of Christmas season in the city, their progression hindered by the crush of tourists on the sidewalk. Minho had insisted on partaking in the festivities and Jisung had indulged him, though he would much rather be warm and alone together in one of their rooms instead of surrounded by every visitor in the city.

“Now ask me.”

“What’s going on?” 

“Just ask,” Jisung whined and Minho laughed, bopping him on the nose with a gloved finger before he gave in.

“Fine, Han Jisung, what were your dreams?”

“Coffee dates and Broadway shows and walking down the sidewalk with someone at my side, sharing the city with them.” He paused, tugging Minho to the side so he could look him in the eyes when he spoke the next few words, “You. You were my dream. I didn’t know it when I met you, but you made New York into everything I ever wanted.”

“What are you doing?” Minho’s voice was choked and Jisung released his hand so he could tug off his gloves, shoving them in his pocket and placing his hands on Minho’s face. He thumbed at the rise of the older boy’s cheekbone as Minho’s hands came up to grip his wrists. His voice was a whisper, “Jisung?”

“Can I kiss you?” Jisung’s hands trembled against Minho’s skin, both from his nerves and the bitter cold. But he wanted to feel him, wanted to touch him, and their winter wardrobes prevented any other type of contact. 

Minho nodded shakily, then breathed out a _yes_ before Jisung surged up and connected their lips. The cold made their mouths clumsy and it was more of a bump of their lips then a proper kiss, but a golden warmth pooled in Jisung’s stomach anyway. 

Minho’s breath was unsteady when he pulled back, his hands still wrapped around Jisung’s wrists. His eyes were closed and Jisung thumbed softly at his rosy cheeks again, overwhelmed by the moment. 

Minho’s long lashes slowly fluttered open and Jisung’s breath caught in his throat. He had never seen anything more beautiful than the way Minho was staring at him, his heart in his eyes and wonderment on his face. 

Jisung wanted nothing more than to pull him close in a hug and bury his face in the older boy’s neck, but their parkas and scarves weren’t going to let that happen. Jisung settled on placing a kiss on the end of Minho’s red tinted nose, his giggles visible in the cold air as he painted a few more kisses across Minho’s exposed face.

“Your hands,” Minho broke the trace, lowering Jisung’s hands from where they had dropped to cup his jawline. “Sungie, they’re frozen, you need to put your gloves back on.”

“I want to touch you,” Jisung murmured, but reached into his pocket for his gloves anyway. He tugged the left one on, but was stopped by Minho before he covered his right hand.

Minho pulled off his own left glove and held his hand out to Jisung, fingers spread. Jisung took it, slotting his frozen digits with Minho’s warm ones and Minho’s thumb danced lightly over his skin as the older boy placed their entwined hands in his own pocket. 

“My dreams changed when I saw you,” Minho said softly, his hand squeezing Jisung’s lightly. “You smiled, that first evening when I met you, and suddenly all I wanted was to see it over and over again.” He laughed, eyes crinkling, “It’s a little embarrassing just how quickly I fell for you. We hadn’t even spoken to each other and I was already a goner.”

“You were the only thing that made me smile for a long time,” Jisung admitted. He’d never told Minho just how awful he’d felt his first few months in the city, though he was sure the boy had guessed it. “I don’t think it’s possible to put into words how important you are to me.”

Jisung didn’t even realize he was crying, not until Minho reached up with the edge of his scarf to carefully dab at Jisung’s tears. 

“It’s too cold to cry,” Minho scolded as he wiped Jisung’s face, but Jisung could see that he was struggling to follow his own advice, his own eyes welling up. “Your tears are going to freeze.”

Jisung sniffled and blinked a few times, managing to stop the flow as Minho fussed over him. 

“Come on,” Minho tugged him towards a coffee shop, their tangled hands slipping out of the warmth of his pocket as they pushed inside.

A few minutes later they had shed their layers and were squished together on one side of a booth in the back corner of the shop, trading kisses as often as they traded sips between the mug of hot chocolate in Minho’s hand and the coffee in Jisung’s.

“Thank you.” The mugs were empty and Minho was tucked into Jisung’s side, his fingers playing with Jisung’s hand as Jisung stared down at him, every word rich with sincerity, “Thank you for making my dreams come true.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!!!! <3  
> my writing/minsung [tumblr](http://vminni.tumblr.com/) and my normal [tumblr](https://thatkpopkidmarklee.tumblr.com/)  
> and my sad new [twitter](https://twitter.com/inounoleeno/)


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